Love, Food, Naps & Joy

Glorious summer is upon us, but whenever I see dogs gamboling with joy I feel so nostalgic. Ever-present is my loving memory of our golden retriever, Daisy.

These feelings were rekindled recently by a friend who lost his golden. I sent him a musing I had written when Daisy was dying. He reads these monthly Lifeplan musings and suggested I share it with all of you.

That seemed right since love is - and should be - part of all our lifeplans. For Kate and me, what we experienced with our Daisy was indeed pure love.

-oOo-

So, Kate’s and my best friend is dying. She has been in our lives for almost 10 years now and is such a joy.

For the past seven she has walked to work with me. On nice days, we always took the time to sit on the bench by the water and chat. She loved the chorus of barking seals and the majesty of the pelicans, especially when they were dive-bombing for fish.

I always marveled at how much pleasure she took in the smallest of nature’s treasures, from the scent of springtime flowers to the breeze blowing through her blond hair. She had so many friends who appreciated her gentle nature and ever-present smile and inquisitiveness.

Most of her friends were aware of her love for cookies and kept them on hand for her when we were out and about. She so cherished visits at the office from friends, especially Jennifer. She also loved her visits to the spa and mid-day walks thru town.

During her life, Daisy defined the quest for the perfect nap. She loved them and would have dreams that earned a chuckle from Kate and me for the “animated talking” she would express. What was she dreaming about?

When winter came, she abandoned her own bed to snuggle between Kate and me. What a snuggler! On the weekends, the couch was shared for naps - and heaven help us if one of us attempted to take a nap without her. A mighty wet nose would affectionately be in your face with a look as if to say, “You aren’t supposed to do that without me!” Oh, how I will miss that loving insistence.

Breakfast and dinner were such time-honored rituals that there was little need for a clock at home. If it was 6:30 am and were not up yet, that loving nose would be there to remind us it was Breakfast Time. Dinner was always preceded by an evening walk to say hello to the neighbors and return promptly home for FOOD.

So, we don’t have much time left with our dear, dear friend. But we are spending every day loving and enjoying each other. Kate and I cry when Daisy can’t see us.

Isn’t it strange that we are the ones suffering? Thankfully, she is in no pain, ever smiling, eating, napping, enjoying our bench time and all its joys.

How blessed we’ve been to share this time with you, Daisy. Life with you has been, and ever will be, golden.